


Cleanliness is next to godliness

by Unfathomablespace



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Bathroom Sex, First Time, M/M, jeevesandwoosterexchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 15:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15537336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfathomablespace/pseuds/Unfathomablespace
Summary: Jeeves comes home looking like his holiday really gave him some time to hit the gym and Bertie does the right thing in that situation.





	Cleanliness is next to godliness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cuddyclothes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddyclothes/gifts).



> for the jeevesandwoosterexchange, but more particulary for @cuddyclothes . I hope you like it.

Yes, bronzed and fit. My man, Jeeves, you know. I awaited his return, eager as a lad, strewn across a chair, peeping at the door. I had been like that for hours now, buzzing and humming with excitement. It was the same type of bubbling, flying feeling I had often heard the blasted Basset rhapsodise over. It was noon and I was beginning to despair, despite the fact that he wasn’t due home for another hour at the very least. I gave it all up as a bad lot and decided the body was in need of a bathe. I would be bright and shiny as a brass button for the blessed return. 

There had been a curious something or other in the air over the last few months. I had thought that maybe the time apart would cool the passions, but it would appear that the problem has only exacerbated itself. I drew my bath and breathed in the steam like a cleansing zephyr. The sudden heat gave me a happy reason for the rising blush on my cheeks. I dipped the tentative toe into the water and smiled at the rose bath salts that Jeeves had taught me of months and months before. I submerged and took a brief moment to myself without the ticking of the clock, or the fuming cars motoring past. I was alone in that silence for a stretch. It was peaceful. I could hear the rushing of my blood and the steady beating of my heart. It cleared the head, although relatives and chums alike would attest that my head did not need clearing. 

I perked up at the sound of the subtle, efficient scrape of the key in the lock. It sang out to me. It was the joyful noise that heralded the return of Jeeves. I shot up in the water, but the bubbles cushioned the motion and saved any spillage. I wriggled with delight. In an uncharacteristic moment, I had no words tumbling out of me and instead a very unmanly yelp leapt forth. I panicked for a second, wondering if the flat was clean enough for his standards (or rather his standards for me). Then it occurred to me that he wouldn't know I was home. A clean flat free of the Wooster and no great hullo and hullabaloo upon arrival. The whirring deductive mind would remember that it is not my way to bathe during daylight hours and surmise that I was out. This gave me a queer sort of thrill. I could hear him sloshing about the living room, clearly too tired to achieve his usual silent glide. I felt strangely like a voyeur, despite there being a good sturdy wall between us. 

Well there was until the door opened and Jeeves entered whilst removing his shirt. I stayed quiet as a mouse and hoped he wouldn't see me and yet, needed him to. Jeeves looked like one of those Parisian postcards that Aunt Agatha had been careful to shield me from, and I had in turn had been all the more insistent on finding and hoarding. His muscles were defined yet understated. It was clear that it was hard labor and activity that had built them, not vain frivolity. I was staring, and I knew I was staring but it’s one of those things isn’t it? When one is faced with a gorgeous valet one stares. Anyone would. Anyone with sense. 

He washed his face and turned and stopped. I can't imagine what I looked like. The room was too warm, and my hair was probably plastered to my face. And I had a dreadful feeling there were bubbles on my head. But he was gorgeous. He was tanned on every available inch of skin. I made sure to check, you know, sunburn is a torture.

“Sir?”

I fidgeted, and the sounds of the water seemed too loud. 

“Ah, yes?” I said with about as much confidence as one would have if one were facing a fire breathing dragon. Jeeves implausibly seemed to be in a similar spot. He was staring at me with the old stuffed frog expression, with the notable addition of his lovely mouth hanging open. The Wooster bean couldn’t fathom why the man hadn’t fled the scene, as it were. He held firm, stoic in his staring.

I would have been happier, under the scrutiny, to be covered by more than a few inches of water. I could feel his grey blue eyes on me. My thoughts were those of immediate escape. I stood up suddenly and soddenly. Jeeves saw the error in my plan before he saw anything else, and tactfully handed me a towel. I felt an odd pang of disappointment at this. There was a time when I appreciated the subtle and stubborn glances away from the Wooster physique, but now it stung that I wasn’t a main event for the man.

I struggled to catch a hold of my train of thought, and by extension, the situation. Master of the domain, indeed. I stepped out of the tub and mustering a degree of decorum managed to speak.

“I say Jeeves, I do hope the waters haven’t tossed you about too badly, old thing. What do you say you run yourself a nice bath, hmm?”

Jeeves seemed extremely hesitant and appeared to be trying to form the words necessary to talk me down from the ledge of insanity I was walking along. It was only now, after the offer had been made that I realized how inappropriate he would probably find it and cringed. To the best of my knowledge, Jeeves had never made use of the facilities and it occurred to me, what a dreadful shame that was. I chided myself for never thinking of this before and felt a righteous indignation rise in my chest on his behalf.

“Sir, I am uncertain-”

“Dispense with uncertainty! I insist. I’ve been told a bath can do wonders for muscle pains and whatnot, er, relative to showers. And I was that told by none other than the formidable Honoria Glossop. A girl undoubtedly knowledgeable in, at, well, in muscle, things, um, yes.”

The eagled eyed reader will note that I trailed off towards the end. This was due to Jeeves taking me up on my offer, and whilst looking me in the eye, began to remove his undershirt. I was truly dazzled by how white they were, given that they had been (with Jeeves) on holiday, likely in Peru or some, sunlit, secluded spot in Cannes. This gave me the full view of his upper torso. I'd never before seen Jeeves in anything less than full uniform. At that, I called halt to the whole thinking business, and fled to the kitchen. 

I fixed myself a glass of water and sloshed it down, water dripping from my face. Refreshed, and able to breath, after some coughing. I decided that this tip toeing around was not the realm of the Wooster and poured Jeeves a glass of water.

Now, I will be the first to admit that this plan was about as filmsy, and quickly approaching transparent as one of those lovely Japanese sliding screens that Jeeves had forbidden me from buying. However, it was the best and only plan my very addled brain could muster and honestly any effort on my part after having seen the strong shoulders and arms of my man was to be deeply appreciated.  
I crept over to the bathroom and before any sensible thoughts could creep into my skull and opened the door.

“Knock, knock, old thing” I said, with a somewhat affected laugh."

“Sir, I have to say-”

It occurred to me to be annoyed at Jeeves’ terrifying unrelenting stoicism, but in the moment, it was entirely too endearing. 

“Ha, well yes, I just brought you a glass of water. Awfully hot, what?” 

In the bath, Jeeves took a breath, closed his eyes and accepted the olive branch. I moved to the side of the tub and handed it down. Our eyes met and we both held the gaze. I have never really felt so seen which I don’t hesitate telling you was not as desirable as one may think, given that I was clad only in a towel and my hair with stuck down my head in an exact inverse of the bouncy curls that are usual order of the day.

I knelt down. Our hands were still touching around the glass. My breath was trapped somewhere between my belly and my throat. I waited for him to speak. His smooth skin stretched out before me. He drank the water down and I watched his Adam’s apple bob and his wet lips slide away. He made a small sound that hung in the air, like music to me.  
I hadn’t looked at his hair properly before. It has a sort of treacle tone to it, a kind of noble hardwood teak colour where the light hits when wet. It was mesmerizing just now. I reached out and touched it, leaving the glass down. It was soft as silk to the touch. Our movements were small and hesitant. 

I ran my hand down his chest and cupped his lovely cheek with the other. He craned his neck up to kiss me. I don’t think my body was capable of holding the amount of joy this fission conducted. His hand mirrored mine, caressing my cheek. I leaned into the touch. I felt as if I should let out a yelp or a holler. Those obscure exclamations seemed to up to code for the sitch. However, I settled for laughing into Jeeves’ mouth as he laughed into my mine and our audible breath mingled in the air. I kissed his jaw and his ears and twined my fingers into his wet, dripping hair.

My hand sunk lower slid along gorgeous slick skin. His chest was broad and lightly haired, but in cultured, organised sort of way. Wrapped up as I was in the activities going on in upper halves, I was more surprised than I had any right to be to find Jeeves hard. I looked back up at him, waiting for the old go ahead. He was flushed. Jeeves' eyes, usually a cool grey were dark and were trained on my hand nearing his cock. He looked and sparkling. An incredible rush of affection rushed me and kissed him as a grasped him and started to stroke. 

"How is that, darling?" As I said this, his back arched as jolts of pleasure hit him. I changed my rhythm to get more that reaction. The water dripped and tipped out of the tub. 

"Perfect, s-sir" 

"Bertie." He didn't immediately reply so I sucked the top of his length into my mouth and hollowed my cheeks around it. 

"Please. Call me Bertie."

"Anything yes." He said as he reached out for my head, breathless. I took this as an indication to continue.

"I'm having an absolute lovely time here," I murmured, stroking him to make up for the sudden loss of suction, "its just that we're making an awful mess and I can't help but think moving to the bedroom wouldn't be an awful idea."

Jeeves stood up and stepped out. Finally our naked bodies were pressed together. We kissed like the other man was air.

"Perhaps not the bedroom then"

"No, love" "Righto" He braced himself against the bathtub and the sight of his arse offered up to me like that nearly made me come on the spot. I knelt and started to prepare him. He bucked when my fingers entered him.

"You're sure?"

"Yes" he said emphatically. I spat on my hand used that as makeshift lubricant. It was slow, and tender. I pressed myself onto his back and reached down to pull him off. It was bliss.  
We moved together, sighing and panting. It was like the pressure of the last few months was weighing down on us. We rutted out our frustration and longing and confusion to each other. It was over before I would have liked. Jeeves came in my hand, and on that que, I managed to finish in my hand as well, because soiling Jeeves up after his bath seemed the impolite thing. 

“Cup of tea?”

“Please, Bertie”

“Lovely”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my debut after a year's absence and neglect. I hope it's okay. My Tumblr is replanetproblems now, if you're interested.


End file.
